Synchronicity
by knightdawndelight
Summary: The experience of two or more events, that are apparently causally unrelated or unlikely to occur together by chance, that are observed to occur together in a meaningful manner. Dean/Castiel.


**Synchronicity**

_is the __experience__ of two or more __events__, that are apparently __causally unrelated__ or unlikely to occur together by chance, that are observed to occur together in a __meaningful__ manner._

Dean takes Cas out onto the front porch early one morning. They watch the sunrise and drink coffee which burns the roof of his mouth. Castiel sits between his legs, resting one elbow on Dean's knees and leans back into him.

The smell of his hair is grapefruit and his tongue against Dean's neck is smooth and feather light. Sometimes they speak and their words float right up into the pale sky because their words don't mean anything at all.

Dean knew his dad loved him. He didn't need to hear it; his dad didn't need to say it. Sometimes his actions spoke the opposite, like when he left Dean and Sammy at a truck stop for two hours or when he went away for weeks at a time. But then he'd come back and make waffles and pancakes and just be sitting at the table with the paper like he hadn't left at all. He'd kiss Sam's forehead and ruffle Dean's hair and Dean knew what he was saying.

Castiel wraps a hand around the back of Dean's neck and pulls him closer as the first of the golden orb creeps over the tree tops. The pads of his fingers press their prints into his skin and Dean wants _no space between them, no time to separate them. He wants this, here, closeness forever because if Castiel breaths air that Dean hasn't exhaled, if Castiel walks ground that hasn't already been walked by Dean surely it will all crumble, they will fall apart. The centre cannot hold and this is the centre. _

Castiel doesn't say it, perhaps doesn't know he should say it. They've watched sitcoms with episodes that revolve entirely around the words but they haven't talked about it. And Castiel is Castiel; he doesn't understand human nuances, the order of things; first date, second date, months and months and moving in, meeting the parents, saying those three words, engagement, marriage. But then, Dean is not a normal human being and he has never had order.

Even if Castiel doesn't say it, Dean knows. There have been diners where Castiel passes the crust of pie to Dean wordlessly and Dean doesn't look up from the paper to take it. There have been kisses in the morning in which Castiel has applied lip balm when Dean gives him a look, small touches after hard hunts and silent exchanges when Sammy bitches about slow internet or lack of woman or whatever it was he bitched about in those days.

There is the pulling back of duvets and sheets, putting on pyjamas, Castiel wearing Dean's Led Zeppelin t-shirt with the stairway to Heaven, climbing into bed and putting the TV on, flicking until they find Dr Sexy re-runs and they laugh at the out-dated fashion and stupid haircuts. ("Did I really spike my hair up that way?" "Yes, dear.")

There is fourth of July barbeques at Sam's where they argue over Castiel attempting to make decent potato salad and what they should and shouldn't have bought the kids and are they really spoiling them that much?

There is visiting Bobby's grave once a month that follows their once a month church visit. There is Castiel passing him tools while he lies under the Impala. There are doctor's visits and vet visits for the phase Castiel goes through in collecting as many different animals as possible. They never go alone.

And then there is this.

When the sun has risen halfway over the tree line Dean wraps his arms entirely around Castiel and pulls him in closer. His skin smells of the girly moisturiser Castiel insists on lathering on. ("I'm getting wrinkly, Dean." "I didn't know you were so vain.")

His skin is pliable beneath Dean's hands, and it _is_ wrinkly but Dean kinda likes it. When he looks at Cas he sees him bursting through a barn door amidst electrical sparks, he sees him yelling for him to go, I'll hold them off, I'll hold them all off.

_(My wish, my one wish was that I didn't let you zap me away, that I stayed and we faced the light together for that is a step we took out of time. _

_No space between us, no time to separate us.)_

He sees Castiel opening his eyes in the bed next to him and he sees him walking out into the backyard after a harsh fight. He sees him playing with Sam's children and grandchildren and he sees him getting old and creaky and smiling with teeth that he puts in the morning which is so gross.

"But kinda cute."

"What?"

"Nothing, dear."

They don't need the words; the three words that neither of them have said. It seems almost silly to say them now, after all this times, redundant. It might even ruin everything.

_There are places Castiel has gone which Dean has not and yet if Castiel walks a step ahead or takes a faster breath Dean feels he may just fall apart. Here, here is the centre and we hold it with our harmony. When I cannot sleep at night I raise my chest with yours and fall with yours and everything you say I hear and when we faced the Devil we took each other's hand at the same time._

"Dean?"

"Yes."

"You're thinking too hard again. I can hear your thoughts."

"You lost that power a long time ago."

"Not with you."

Castiel swivels, old hips creaking, a look of tiredness shifting in his eyes before being buried beneath the weight of love there is when he faces Dean.

"I think it is time to go," Castiel says and there is a pause, their breath hangs in the air, before they inhale together and smile like they meant it, did it on purpose.

"Yes," Dean answers. "I'm not scared."

"You think I would be?"

"Of course not."

"Perhaps we should say something."

Dean smiles and cups Castiel's cheek and kisses him, quick, on the lips. There is time, time enough for that and more, later, past the veil.

"There is nothing to say which has not already been said."

And later, later when he is lying in the bed of his home but for the first time lying in it as a thirty year old, scar-less and somehow sinless, he will laugh but right then the moment is so tender he could cut it like knife through red string.

"Castiel."

They look up to Tessa who stands with her hand out to the former angel. Castiel looks back to Dean and says; "I'll see you on the other side." He stands smoother than Dean has seen him move for over a decade and moves to Tessa.

Dean does not what this. This is a step which Castiel takes ahead of him, this is a step in which they do not move in sync.

But then Tessa smiles at him, holds out her other hand and says; "you too, Dean."

And Dean stands up, smooth like Castiel and when he looks behind him his body is boneless against the porch stairs, Castiel's lying against him and Dean realises it's probably been like that all along.

"Can we go together?" Dean asks, childlike.

"For you two," Tessa says. "Yes."

At the same time that Dean reaches out so does Castiel and they clasp hands to face the light together.


End file.
